


(Cohabitation) Against All Odds

by Arelate (Nana)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Sherlock!Crossover, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nana/pseuds/Arelate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Crime is common and logic is rare, but </em>this,<em> whatever it might be, this is plainly odd.</em> Featuring Victorian era manga-based French detective "Tamaki" René de Grantaine, and his calculating companion Ootori Kyouya, a Japanese immigrant doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Cohabitation) Against All Odds

_**AU Sherlock Holmes Crossover**_  
 **Title:** (Cohabitation) Against All Odds  
 **Author:** [](http://are-late.livejournal.com/profile)[**are_late**](http://are-late.livejournal.com/)  
 **Words** **:** 1,447  
 **Summary:** _Crime is common and logic is rare, but_ this, _whatever it might be, this is plainly odd._ Featuring Victorian era manga-based French detective "Tamaki" René de Grantaine, and his calculating companion Ootori Kyouya, a Japanese immigrant doctor.  
 **A/N:** This is for the lovely [](http://misura.livejournal.com/profile)[**misura**](http://misura.livejournal.com/)! Hope you like it, hun~ Also, this is my small contribution to the [](http://help-haiti.livejournal.com/profile)[**help_haiti**](http://help-haiti.livejournal.com/)   comm, which has already raised over $115,000.00 for the cause :D

With his back to me, the movements of his fingers upon the ivory keys were only left to the imagination. Nevertheless, as used as I was to his antics, I was able to envision the long sinewy things hammering down over the blacks and whites with my eyes closed.

I could hear how my companion’s foot tapped along the upbeat tempo over the carpeted floor. Could feel how the cheery, elaborated tunes echoed against the wooden walls of our humble lodgings. He boosted up the atmosphere merely with his presence, turning every corner into a party all of its own.

The final chords of his spontaneously improvised piece came within a few arpeggios as he stepped over the glistening pianoforte pedals. The ending notes of the melody remained suspended in the air, amid the room, only to become a faint whistling noise before being fully devoured by silence. 

I opened my eyes behind my crystal clear glasses and blinked. A pair of curved lips beamed at me in the form of the most genuine, tender smile. Violet eyes sparkled in what could have been described as pure adoration. The man in front of me let out a dreamy sigh, and I just proceeded to adjust the glasses over the bridge of my nose as I reached for a cup of tea that I had previously left on the small table to my left.

“Kyouya!” Tamaki screeched in that slurred accent of his, half twisting his upper body upon the pianoforte’s seat. “I must say that your indifference is quite aggravating, _mon cher ami_.”

“Hmm, is that so?” I replied, drawing a circular pattern with my teaspoon among the greenish warm liquid. 

He nodded vehemently with his head, making the golden strands of hair that curled at the ends bounce up and down. “Indeed!”

“I see,” I muttered as I set the spoon aside and drew the steamy cup closer to my lips.

“Ah, Kyouya. Do I bore you with these odd compositions of mine? Perhaps I should play some of your favorites, then!”

“I am thoroughly delighted by your improvisational skills, Tamaki,” I uttered with ease. The sunshine was passing right trough the glass, so a windowpane-shaped reflection was glowing upon the carpet. I looked for my pocket watch into the fabric of my pants and became slightly surprised in how time had really gone by.

I left the teacup on the table as I stood slowly from the tapestry couch. “Thank you for the offer, but you must save that performance for some other time. I have to run some errands and I must leave now if I want to be back before dark.”

“Leave? _Mon ami_ , why didn’t tell me as such earlier ago?” Tamaki said in a whiney voice that resembled that of a spoiled child’s. He rose from his seat in a quick motion and followed closely behind as I left the room. “Now I am doomed to remain here, alone and isolated. _Quel dommage_ , what a dreadful thing!”

I stepped all the way up trough the staircase, looking up to the ceiling and trying to ignore the grown man’s little tantrum. “Why don’t you take the time to play games with Antoinette?” I simply suggested over my shoulder, walking over to my chambers. 

“I _always_ play with Antoinette. And I know she gets bored easily because there are no new games to play!”

“Make up a new one, then,” I said, rummaging trough the armoire. A distant bark that I identified as Antoinette’s was heard from the yard. 

“Oh, _mon cher ami_ …” Tamaki groaned, flopping down on my bed. “There is no stopping my impending doom.”

I took out a large gray overcoat and looked over to where my friend was sitting. “I will be gone just for a couple of hours. Why don’t you invite the ladies over? Their company is quite enjoyable to you, I reckon. Or am I mistaken?”

“The ladies are quite lovely for company, without a doubt.” He seemed to ponder about the issue, however briefly. “But it would be disrespectful to call them in such short notice! I am afraid I cannot do that, Kyouya. Above it all, I am a gentleman.”

“Surely most of them would not mind,” I stated, but I knew it was a rather futile attempt. Whenever this man decided to take upon the martyr role I certainly wouldn’t be hearing the end of it anytime soon. Such issues with loneliness, he had.

I grabbed my overcoat and threw it onto my shoulder, waiting for Tamaki to exit the room so I could get the door shut. “You could at least look around the papers for some cases to distract yourself with,” I said to the man, stepping down on all seventeen steps once again.

“Ah hah, mon ami,” he began, “crime is so utterly appalling! And so common, these days, I’m afraid. The intention, however, the intricate passionate _meaning_ behind all wrong-doings… This thing so terribly wonderfully _human_ … The only thing besides your beloved company, mon chere ami, that continues to have me anchored to this dreadful business… I certainly won’t find it upon a piece of paper!”

I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. Always the romanticist, that man was, and yet under my own cold logical reasoning I still wasn’t able to explain his brilliant and fairly profitable success. ‘Tamaki’ René de Grantaine had been a French heir to a considerable name, once. He had been born as the only child of a well-accommodated family in Paris; naturally, he could have had anything he would have ever wanted. But by no means the predictable one, he had decided to run away from France, away from his family and from the manufactured bliss that his life had been since birth. 

Somewhere in between traveling around Europe and freezing to death during the harsh winters, his good-looking appearance and well-mannered behavior got him a ticket straight to London, where he established in a small set of lodgings. A man of many talents, both charming and clever, Tamaki found solace under a faux name and a rather peculiar circle of friends that would do anything to protect him. 

When I met him, he was already well acquainted with nearly half of the city. I was an immigrant medicine student all on my own, desperate for reasonably cheap accommodations. Soon enough, I was let known of his desire to share and have a roommate, so with all the dignity I could muster I went directly to him and placed my offer. He was thoroughly delighted to have me as a companion, or so were his words at the time.

It wasn’t until he met me that he found himself truly involved with the unraveling of the most complexly common kind of mysteries. I had never in my life known such and exceptional individual, with such knowledge and plain _understanding_ of the human nature. Something that cannot be taught, that cannot be explained; a something that simply _is_. There is no method to his ways, no professional etiquette to bury over his naturally boisterous self, and yet this is the very same man who has unintentionally put nearly the whole of Scotland Yard in public ridicule. 

No one knows exactly why or _how_ does he arrive to the conclusions that solely he can elaborate inside that unusual mind of his, but in the end he always happens to be right, even if the man in question himself seems to be rather insecure about the result. As if it were some sort of all-knowing deity, an omnipresent being that lets him have the upper hand, or perhaps the whole universe working on his behalf for the prevalence of justice. These and some other theories (also quite fantastical) regarding his abilities have always clashed against my own very reasoning. Crime is common and logic is rare, but _this,_ whatever it might be, this is plainly odd.

“Either way, _c’est la même chose!_ ”

I put on my gray overcoat and grabbed a pair of leather gloves in one hand. “Would it be convenient for you to accompany me?” I suggested, looking at my companion expectantly.

The man in front of me positively _beamed_ at the proposition, instantly wrapping his long arms around my frame and whispering excitedly in my ear: “ _Mon ami, mon cher ami…!_ ”

“Kyouya! _Un moment, s’il vous plaît!  
_ Allow me to get my hat, _tout de suite!_ ” he hollered as he disappeared upstairs, skipping several of the seventeen steps on his way.

I shook my head from side to side, lips curving slightly upwards. 

Either way, Tamaki is no mystery to me. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I'm just lovin' this. 8D Finally, I found a fast, simple way to storage my works and keep them public. Awesome, I tell you. This is awesome. <3


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